


Terminal Sentimentality

by Apricots_from_Nara



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Affection Fetish, Cuddlefucking, Immobility, M/M, Mnemosurgery, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 16:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12963303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apricots_from_Nara/pseuds/Apricots_from_Nara
Summary: “Admit it.... you want that ‘terminal sentimentality’.”





	Terminal Sentimentality

“You crave more than partnerships, or friendships.”

Sunder leaned over him, and Froid leaned back, back arching as he leaned back to keep the space between his legs from being exposed to Sunder’s spike. He turned away from his eye-less stare, yellow optics narrowing. “I don’t-”

“It must be so hard being a functionalist that was for years on call to Sentinel Prime and having to hear that your deepest desires were disgusting.” Sunder leaned in closer, his nose nearly touching Froid’s cheek.

“Admit it.... you want that ‘terminal sentimentality’.”

Froid could feel Sunder’s spike on his knee, and his own valve clenched longingly. Oh how rarely he allowed for himself to interface. To be close to another.

How they came like this, Froid was not sure. Sunder had gone on one of his little hunts, and Froid observed the aftermath. Nothing was different in the beginning, yet in the end Sunder was on him, peeling him open like he was the psychoanalyst.

_”So haughty, so mightier than thou. You shame your former friend for getting close, when all you want is the same. You want closeness. Perhaps not with a patient. No... too professional for that. But with someone, oh yes.”_

He had been quite certain Sunder had no interest in interfacing, but clearly he did, as was evident by the heated spike sliding along his thigh.

Froid lifted his hands, spindly arms poised awkwardly as he pressed against the mad mnemosurgeon’s shoulders. “I do not...”

Froid could almost feel the spike throbbing, and he found he did not want to deny it any more. Sentinel was gone. They were not on cybertron. He could do this with anyone he wished, and he would.

... Was it his own admission, or was Sunder so desperate for this that he was using his remote-mnemosurgery without even knowing? It had happened before, though for nothing quite like this. Sunder thankfully was seated in the delusion that he needed his optics

Froid banished the thought quickly, his panel sliding open with a noticeable click.

Sunder vented out through his denta. A long hiss that was hot on Froid’s face. His rust colored hands braced on the table, trapping Froid as he leaned down. Unease settled in Froid’s tank, making for a strange arousal he was not sure he liked.

Sunder’s spike pressed hotly to Froid’s valve, and Froid shuddered uneasily.

“My optics, give them to me.”

Froid slapped his hand over Sunder’s face, pushing him away a little “If you want me to like it, then work for it.”

Sunder just grinned more, tilting his head so Froid’s servo’s slipped into his sockets. Froid removed the hand quickly, mildly disgusted, and Sunder rocked his hips. The spike rubbed against the psychoanalyst's node, and the subsequent shudder was a much more positive one.

It was very slow going, Froid’s hands moving to rest loosely on sunder’s sides, peering down and just watching.

“Hmmmm. Let me try to cater to your interests.” Sunder finally said, an arm lifting.

Froid found himself in a one armed hug, pressed tight to Sunder’s chassis. He could feel his spark thundering behind the metal, and a thrill surged through him. So close to his spark. So intimate... His hips jerked, and the dampness of his valve folds became wetness.

He could not help himself, his arms wrapping around Sunder. Their length made for an easy hold despite Sunder’s larger size. His legs spread more when Sunder’s hold went gentle, valve now practically gushing, spike out and dripping, and node swollen.

Sunder’s hand grasped the back of Froid’s helm, and Froid felt a surge of desire. So intimate. He loved it. He wanted more.

He made a strange garbled sound as the head of Sunder’s spike pressed in. He clung tighter, and his hips jerked up to take it all in at once.

It hurt but Froid barely even noticed, he made the garbled sound as Sunder rocked his hips, his claws scratching the red paint across his back.

“Want even more?” Sunder asked, sounded amused.

Froid nodded vigorously, gathering himself enough to speak evenly. “If you please.”

Sunder laughed, hand suddenly going to Froid’s neck, fumbling... no feeling around. He stiffened, and Sunder shushed him. “No no. Not that.” he leaned in, face burying into Froid’s neck...

And he began to mouth at his neck cables.

It was practically euphoric. Froid’s optics dimmed and he shuddered. Sunder’s spike moved slowly inside of him, the movements more like grinding then actual thrusts. It was overwhelming and relaxing all at once. The charge built and built and it seemed to have no end. He tilted his hips, and Sunder’s hip plating was grinding his outer node. he was close. On the edge. But he was not falling why was he-?

Sunder inhaled like he was smelling something delicious. “I wanted my optics so I could just look at you as you overload.”

His tone was not what it had been before. It was husky, like he was feeling it. It was what he needed. The words, and how he said them.

“S-Sunder...” Froid garbled, overloading as he wrapped his arms and legs around Sunder tightly. It was a good one. He felt it in his chamber, a deep throbbing as it flexed. His spike shot transfluid out onto his torso. A few long spurts that felt amazing even though his spike had been utterly neglected.

“Haha.... Saying my name like a lover.”

Froid’s arousal rose again to a fever pitch.

‘Lover’. What a good word, though not fitting for whatever they were. he let Sunder go, even though he was ready to go again.

Sunder stood up slightly fumbling again at the other’s neck, and Froid watched as Sunder lifted his optics up by the cord that kept them looped around his neck. His hands flew to his neck.

“Sunder-”

Sunder slowly put one optic in, then the other. He looked down at Froid and grinned. “Stay still. My fun now.”

Froid wend immobile, and Sunder did as he wanted. Hard deep thrusts that were honestly quite pleasant as well. He could move, barely, his arms lifting and hands clenching into tight fists.

His ceiling node was being practically battered. It was a very different feeling than the slow grinding. His back arched, and Sunder’s large hand grabbed his slim waist, the other pushing into a vent.

It was coming. He was overloading again. It was coming and-

The hand in his vents moved to his head, tilting it back...

And Sunder was kissing him. Nothing more then pressing his lips to his mouthpiece, but a kiss nonetheless. Froid’s optics widened, his whole body shuddering with each wave of his overload. **This** was euphoria.

Burning heat filled his valve and spilled, flowing over his aft. Sunder had cum as well. The mnemosurgeon held Froid’s face in his huge hands, and he grinned.

“Sleep.”

Froid opened his optics, laying on his berth. He blinked then moved his hand to his neck. Sunder’s optics were back, and when he happened a glance around the room, he saw Sunder was sitting in his open cell grinning vacantly as he sat.

Froid sat up, rolling his shoulder joins a little to make sure they were not damaged. They were delicate and thin, easily damaged by rough handling.

“Sunder?”` He moved, a dull pain between his legs. Not some dream. It was all real.

Sunder did not reply, having seemingly gone into a stupor. He would come out of it with in days end and begin his wall writing, then he would want to talk about his brother.

Froid stood and closed the cell. Sunder turned to him, making Froid jump, his grin somehow even bigger.

“Until next time, partner.”

It was laced with innuendo, and Froid out of an old habitual shame turned away.


End file.
